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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101650">But if you think you're gonna get away from me, you better change your mind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/morisco/pseuds/morisco'>morisco</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Formula 1 RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Also the guy with Daniel is definitely Michael but I'm not tagging it because he never got named, Is this what the kids call crack fic?, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:55:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/morisco/pseuds/morisco</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>His stranger was enjoying the show. Watching as Max trailed his hand up from Charles’s hip all the way over the delicate arch of his back to his sculpted shoulder blades, up to the short hair on his nape, until he finally found grip in the dark soft strands at Charles's crown. </p><p>Max imagined a different texture of hair in his mind, how his hand would find resistance in the curlier hair he was seeing on the man further down the beach.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, mentioned Daniel ricciardo/male character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>But if you think you're gonna get away from me, you better change your mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I heard Kevin Lyttle's 'Turn me on' on loop for too long and this happened.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p6"> </p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">He felt the sweat snaking down his back lightly, not unlike the precipitate that had gathered on the glass under his fingertips.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">The vodka tonic and the heat of the island didn’t do much for him though. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Instead, Max’s eyes were trained on the dance floor, on the sweaty figure that moved to the rhythm of the beat. Tanned skin covered by an offensive orange sleeveless shirt that would’ve looked terrible on most, but not on him. Not on this man.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max felt like a sleaze. He had been sitting at the bar watching this man for what felt like hours. The indignity was only slightly edged out by how turned on he was. And he reasoned that watching someone was no crime.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">With tattoos decorating his skin in random spots up his limbs, he looked delicious. Max’s favourite by far was the ink that seemed to cover his thigh, peeking out in full glory when he bent it just right. The ways Max would lick at that tantalising skin, press his fingers into the flesh just above it, on the inside of the stranger’s thigh.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">The stranger’s lithe body seemed to embody the energy on the beach, pulling the bodies around his own into a trancelike state.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max knew that he knew Max was watching him. They’d made eye contact. Max thought he was going to implode when the stranger smiled at him at first, then bit his lip, throwing his whole body into it when the reggaeton changed to a dance club song from the noughties.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max only briefly broke their connection when Charles came back to stand in front of him, looking drunk and pressing his body into Max. Max put his own drink on the counter and leaned down from his perched position on the stool. He was staring past Charles once more to look at the man on the dancefloor. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Charles was pressing kisses along the side of his neck now. Max was already turned on. The trail of wetness and heat only left him heady and wanting more.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">His stranger was enjoying the show, watching as Max trailed his hand up from Charles’s hip all the way over the delicate arch of his back to his sculpted shoulder blades, up to the short hair on his nape, until he finally found grip in the dark soft strands at Charles's crown. Max imagined a different texture of hair in his mind, how his hand would find resistance in the curlier hair he was seeing on the man further down the beach.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Max,” Charles had been whining his name for a while before Max finally looked down at the pretty boy standing in his space, face red and lips parted, his breathing sensual against Max’s skin. His delicate forehead crinkled in confusion when he sensed the divide in Max’s attention.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Charles turned to look at where Max’s gaze had been fixated for the past hour, searching until Max saw understanding settle on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ah.” He turned back to look at Max, “do you want him?” Charles posed the question innocently enough. His boyfriend loved playing up his angelic looks. Only Max knew better. He saw the lazy flicker in his boyfriend’s eyes. Ever present, keeping Max on edge.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Not really.” <em>But really.</em></span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“The last time I saw you eye fucking someone like you’ve been doing him for god knows how long, you and I ended up fucking in the club loos before we knew each other’s names.” And Max thought it was looking like a real repeatable possibility right there as well, with Charles under him, or him under that stranger. Or both. At once. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“You were watching me?” Max asked, getting off the stool only to stand against the bar. His lids felt heavier as Charles slipped his soft hands under Max’s shirt, teasing along the belt of his linen shorts.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“It was hot. So is he.” Charles dipped his fingers down to the elastic of his boxers. Their heads turned back in unison to where the man had been dancing mere minutes ago. They scanned the dancefloor but he was nowhere to be seen. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Charles turned back to him. Max felt Charles press his thigh up against Max’s crotch, with subtle movements he had mastered over the years. He knew exactly what to do to get Max worked up. And if any wandering eyes were to set on them, Charles would only call the person out to pay them if they were going to enjoy the show.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max stared down at Charles, seeing vivid green eyes staring back at him, pupils blown wide and a carnal smile on his face. Max caught his mouth in a kiss, pulling at Charles’s pouting lower lip between his teeth. Charles moved his face away to look at Max once more, before devouring his lips again, asking for entry, licking at his mouth until Max let him have his way.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">They didn’t hear the bartender clearing his throat at them the first few times until he got properly loud, making Max look up.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve got to take this somewhere else, sirs.”</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max saw Charles’s face change, like he was charging up to bring hellfire upon whoever dared interrupt them. That really was how Charles walked through life, demanding everyone serve him and fulfil his whims, for the systems to bend for him and the world to revolve around him alone. And when they had first met, Max honestly thought he had every right to. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max put his hand on Charles’s cheek, refocusing his gaze.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s go princess. The resort is only a ten minute walk.” Max spoke against the shell of Charles’s ear, “I’m going to fuck you into tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">He heard Charles inhale sharply, the bartender spared and forgotten.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“C’mon. I’m getting you off in the loos first.” Charles spoke once they were walking away from the bar, looking every bit like a man on a mission as they made their way inside the club house. The area was darkly lit and there was no music in the hallway, only open for party goers to attend the toilet. There was no queue, but when Max tried the door, it wouldn't budge. He tried to move the lever down once more but it seemed like it was locked from the inside. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">There was some huffing and scuffling from the other side before the door finally opened from the inside, a guy with muscled arms stumbled out, wiping at his mouth with the back of his forearm, his gaze looking hazy and wild, not much unlike their own. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Charles pulled him towards the bathroom door that hadn’t even swung close yet. Max bumped into someone on his way in, and his whole body lit up when he saw the same orange shirt from earlier, his head whipping up to meet dark eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">They both stilled for a moment, unable to move. Max smelled the musk and the sweat mixed with the air of sex on him. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Daniel? Babe, you okay?” He heard the first guy say, pulling them out of their daze.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1"><em>Daniel.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">That was his stranger’s name.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max watched Daniel, gulping visibly before holding lifting his hand to Max’s torso, gently pushing his body to the side. Daniel observed him all while he did this, before he finally had to walk away. Max felt his skin ablaze where Daniel’s hand had touched, as if he had been freshly brandished.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max watched the couple leave the clubhouse hand in hand, until they disappeared from sight. Daniel had turned back once, and Max saw the dark promise in his eyes, as if to say this was not the end. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And Max knew he would be clinging to it for all their days to come on the island.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Charles had joined his side at some point during the encounter, and Max finally focused on him once more, feeling a little guilty until Charles spoke. </span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Babe, that was so hot. I wonder who they are? But I hope we get to see them again. ”</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Max couldn’t agree more.</span>
</p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“C’mon. I promised you a good time.”</span>
</p><p class="p6"> </p><p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">----------</span>
</p><p class="p5">
  <em>Fin.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Anyway I'm sorry if you hoped to find smut here. I am incapable, but if you'd like to write this foursome, feel free. x</p></blockquote></div></div>
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